P A R A N O I D.

you already ʟᴇᴛ it pass through your 𝖑𝖎𝖕𝖘, you can't take it back now. i'm afraid to say she never made it ❝ 𝒽𝑜𝓂𝑒, ❞ couldn't keep her { HEAD } on. she was so close. there goes the sun !

[frvnces]

annaburstow:

“In that case, got a million bucks?” Anna joked, sounding more like an 86-year-old grandfather attempting his last move at relevancy before croaking. With a slight sigh, and imaginary rattling bones to complete the grandfather appearance, she settled on the bar-stool and plopped her purse on the counter.

When the bartender made his way around, interrupted a handful of times with drunken requests for vodka, brandy, and water, Anna gladly accepted the drink with a large smile and tip shoved into the jar. Taking a few big gulps, her face soon contorted into a toad-like mixture of disgust and horror - what kind of iced tea was this. It settled in her stomach strangely, perhaps she never had this town’s type of iced tea, she reckoned.

“Did you know I was gonna ask before I did?” Anna strove to make conversation. 

     frances grinned down into her wine glass as she tiled it, fingers gripping it from the inside, and let the light amber colored liquid touch her lips. today was reward day. on reward day, she got to get high. because of the festivities, she also got to get drunk. she was only allowed every so often. she set it down, resting both her hands in her lap, and shook her head at the brunette. “ i don’t usually tune in until i can see you. “ that wasn’t all the way true, but she wasn’t comfortable with giving away just how much she could really do.

    her smile was permanent, the result of stimulants reaching every part of her --- even he creativity. “ ask for lemon wedges next time. the acid might cut the alcohol. but i don’t know. “ when could she ask her ? how long did they have to talk before it was okay for frances to bring it up.

[frvnces]

annaburstow:

     Children scampered around her legs, engaged in a game of tag that overruled the general laws of Etiquette. Their laughter was a tumble of shrieks and giggles, yelling names and the worst words they could think of.

     Anna couldn’t find it within her to mind, her dress-skirt ruffling with the winds of youthful exhilaration. They donned masks of grueling monsters and witches galore, a tradition similar to Halloween, Anna was told. She had heard of the holiday before, having seen the candy marked at ridiculously low prices and the outrageously plump pumpkins popping up everywhere around her hometown, but her parents had never allowed Anna to participate. Something about it being too dangerously close to her condition? She was unsure, but felt it humorous the town would celebrate such a horrific death.

     The drink in her hand was clutched more tightly as she wandered the pebbled roads, her cheeks on their own path to rosiness. There was no alcohol in her, a decision she was unsure of now, having seen the whole town in its stupor of excitement and excessive rowdiness. Yet, the night was bitterly cold with the reminder of those lost, and how the clutches of Death marks no man safe. A more adult drink would warm her up, she reckoned. 

     Slipping into the safe haven of a bar, she surveyed the selection carefully - embarrassingly aware of her sober state and her little knowledge regarding these types of spirits. In a last minute rush of fear, not entirely knowing herself in a tipsy universe, Anna gestured for the bartender’s attention and request a Long Island Iced Tea, planning to start off with something more known to her.

     Tapping the person’s shoulder on the bar stool in front of her, Anna pointed at the empty seat next to them. It was a crowded bar already, bodies thrumming at their own tempo and combining together in a confused rush of sweat and glazed eyes, perhaps the person meant to save a seat for a friend.

“Can I sit here?”

     frances found the celebration in the holiday. to her, it made sense. to her, when death had taken someone away, you drank and shared stories, fond memories, things you did with them. what would aurora’s fond memories with her be ? all thievery, breaking rules and not adhering to anything long enough for it to get to know them. pennyroyal had to be different; they had no choice. they had to find permanent homes here, even if they hadn’t yet gotten to permanent people. if anything, frances liked this girl. her and casper.

     she turned to find the brunette in her vision and a smile was already on her face. “ you can. i’d never tell the girl who talks to the dead she couldn’t. “

[frvnces]

bansheeaubri:

Yes, why was it interesting again? Aubri gave a light shrug of her shoulders and rested her hand on one cheek. “I mean, any kind of creativity is interesting to me. I’ve never really been very creative, more studious.”

     so they were those notorious popular polar opposites. she’d yet to find hers. “ i could tell, “ she replied truthfully. “ what do you do ? “

[frvnces]

klausdailey:

It was dark, it was dreary.

The wind outside whistled through the small gaps in the poorly crafted windows and doors of Talia’s Tea House. Klaus was a regular at the small shop on the edge of town. It was a quiet and small home-turned-business. Klaus enjoyed the soothing swing music they had on as he sipped his blueberry and lavender tea. The murky tea swirled around in this hands as he blowed on the steaming liquid.

On the leather bound book before him Klaus had gone over the same dreaming draught several times. Still unable to figure out what he was missing. The page that was once just a simple recipe was now flooded with scribbled ink on most empty spots.

Klaus let out a frustrated huff, his messy bangs brushing upwards at the jar of breath.

     this job wasn’t working out for her. she didn’t like having to give their drinks to people: everyone was too entitled, too snippy. the power to deflect everything said to her was important and, if it had its own feelings, exhausted. but the benefit ? tea. every night. and it was the best thing that had happened to her since the ability to be able to read minds.

     frances crawled out from behind the bar, despite that it was decently busy, and put her hair up in a quick, messy bun. she was exhausted and this normal people life they were trying was making her exhausted in new ways. there were benefits, but the drawbacks were outweighing the benefits so heavily that she felt as if she was carrying a pyramid on her back, every finger moving slowly and with caution to go nimbly toward lifting it, but terrified it would, again, crush her fingers.

    she walked through the room, pretending she cared to see if anyone needed a refill, but instead, walked past the boy, a frustration in the air. she paused, then sat across from him. “ i’m a psychic, “ she said, lying to excuse her strange behavior. “ and you’re interesting. “

[frvnces]

annaburstow:

Anna’s fingers ghosted the frame of the packaging, and reluctantly slid the zero into her basket, unwilling to give the normal-yet-so-not-normal girl the satisfaction of verbal agreement. Teals had consistently brightened Anna’s demeanor throughout her life, the splatches of blue dawning upon the sky a promise of lovely days to come. So, while the girl was right, Anna felt the childish surge of denial seize upon her shoulder blades.

…

“How does it work? The mind thing.”

No. 

Anna did not just speak to the girl her subconscious had vowed to haughtily ignore. 

But, yet, it was Anna’s lips that moved, her chest that rumbled of language, and her throat that ached of traitorous word vomit - she had spoken. A blush tinged her cheeks, the eye contact between the two women still not rigidly established, and she slid in a few other teal-coloured birthday decorations into the basket. Wouldn’t hurt, after all.

     she’d been asked this question a lot. every house she surfed and couch she crashed on, especially the squatter houses, she was always asked what she could do, really. she never found a logical enough reason to keep it a secret. it was in the interest of full disclosure; a “ sorry, but here i am “ disclaimer so that she can have actual conversations with people. it was hard to find a question when you already knew everything. getting to know people ventured more into frances gets to know people and everyone else gets nothing from her. she’d been asked this question a lot. so she had an answer prepared for it. she began, “ i can access your thoughts and memories, “ but then, an addendum, “ you used to have to be thinking about it for me to be able to read it, but i’ve gotten better. now, i can get to almost anything. haven’t mastered the repressed stuff, but that’s trickier. the forums say so, anyway. “

     it seemed fair now to ask her a question. the brunette, she decided just now, was beautiful ( because it was either weird looking or beautiful & individual and it took a second of staring to figure it out a never-before-seen face ). she wondered if the girl before her was as interested in her ability as frances was in her’s. “ so, how does it work for you ? “

[frvnces]

bansheeaubri:

Not particularly put off, but rather thrown off guard by the sound, Aubri suddenly got the idea that she had said something wrong. Was a slightly condescending laugh better than simply being stared at disapprovingly? Maybe. “I don’t actually know… I was just going with the popularly used term.” She thought she understood why the label might be frowned upon by some people. It was practically asking for expectation and judgement. “That is interesting, though.”

     frances stared the brunette down. why was it interesting ? she wondered if she should give her space, freedom, not invade her head, but it was incredibly tempting and she was having a hard time not peeking. she would, before the conversation was over, but for now, she was building up suspense for herself. “ is it ? why ? “

[frvnces]

auroradelacroix:

Ari swallowed down the words like they meant something to her; rolling them around on her tongue to find the taste. Some clue in them that might tell her where to look for a reply. The movie screen’s ever-shifting shadows were the only things to catch her eye.

It was not, with them, the common-sense answer.

Frances and Aurora had never used movie nights as an excuse to get to watch the film. Running their mouths until their sentences grew heavy with unshed meaning was the point. And they’d been quiet – save their inevitable ambiance – for the moments leading up to now.

They could be talking about the movie; the secondary fratboy-esque character jogging in and out of the shot. They could also be talking about literally anyone, and that was where speaking sometimes grew complicated.

Ari wasn’t all knowing. Frances almost genuinely could be, in a sense.

“I think he’s just comic relief. That’s why he dies when he does.” She turned to eye the empty seats around then, and back. The words sounded dull to her ears, but they might serve to push the other’s thoughts more into blatancy if she was wrong. “Maybe it’s both? Don’t be a dick or you choke. It’d look better if the body was missing its teeth, in that case.”

“Although that would be heinously overplayed as well.”

     frances was quick to realize they didn’t listen to the girl’s grotesque descriptions as well as they had wanted to. in less than a second, they accessed ari’s memory and played in back in their head, thoughts traveling faster than the speed of light past much bigger space debris than their mind threw at them on its own. morbid, self-destructive, guilty ? frances didn’t understand anyone, and at times, especially their sister. but they were trying to respect her wishes to not delve into her mind. they were trying for the most part, anyway. this time, they didn’t peek anywhere else except in conversational memory and in the last few moments. they just needed to hear it again and it was easier than asking.

     “ god, you’re morbid, “ frances replied. it didn’t faze either if them, however, considering the movie they were watching. it was gorey and full of death, lurking uncomfortableness in every new title screen scene ( he could only handle these kind of movies on certain days at certain times ). frances didn’t feel like they should apologize. “ what do you mean, though ? the teeth ? “ asking questions made them uncomfortable. they didn’t have to; they could just look. but it was a conscious effort for ari.

[frvnces]

     the pair were loud to a fault. bags wrinkled disruptively and hit the floor with no grace, a bang as they went under feet that forgot of the growing mound of in-theater reruns. it had been four times so far, and frances insisted they would see the hidden meaning of it most definitely this time. it would not be fast, but they’d get it. 

     most of the trash was frances’s. that didn’t go unnoticed. but it didn’t seem like it was a discussion for the fifth and probably final showing. each film, they thought deeper, however, and this one could showcase the dread inside of frances’s heart for her sister. the girl wasn’t obvious enough and frances refused to invade her privacy yet. no one was safe and they all knew it, but casper was the first who frances would deny. second was her sister. but aurora knew all that because it was in one of their talks about boundaries and how focusing on one person might be good practice. she chose casper and now, frustratingly so, knew nothing about him. it wasn’t a world she liked, but it was a gesture for ari more meaningful than not reading her thoughts, themselves would have been.

     “ i get that. but i think his general douche-yness has underlying cause. like, i think he’s an overplayed cautionary tale, but it’s all still there. “

( @auroradelacroix. )

[frvnces]

             moodboard(s)                            1 / ???

                                       frances delacroix.

[frvnces]

casper-halim:

The other was like a rabbit, rearing to bolt at any moment, head upturned to listen for danger. But the quietness overtook them almost immedately, rippling out with the change of tone. Her voice slowing, and hollowing itself out. She reminded Cas of a book he’d read, how one of the short stories spoke of a girl who wanted an entire fish made of only skin. How he had spent the night wondering what exactly that would look like; did that mean it was full of skin? Or was it just hollowed out? Was skin still skin if it replaced bone? Cas assured himself that Fran was neither hollow nor full. She was something unpredictable- and that in itself was frightening. Cas nodded. “Okay. Sounds good.” 

     she could almost never read what he was thinking from just his face and she wouldn’t dare deprive the months of not giving into reading his mind. he was literature’s great white wale: he would be packed with a psychological dream she created. he would be a mine full of rubies and sapphire and turquoise and a stone for every month. she could see significance in every troubling thing he’d seen. he was a dealer, and a boy with powers she knew nothing yet about.

     what he meant was that she was going to try things the normal, human way. at least this once. ari suggested it to her like some sort of self-control challenge. she agreed to make her sister feel better, but at this point, it was curiosity killing satisfaction. she withheld for her own reasons and update aurora once every few days that she saw him. well, once every three days exactly. it bugged her on the calendar, but like everything, it sometimes evened itself out. she pushed her hands both into her jackets, feeling the bag of powder inside the bag of pills. a downer for the high, then an upper to function right.

     ” then that means you have to tell me things about you, “ she said, after what seemed like eons of staring at him.

[frvnces]

annaburstow:

“Read my mind?” Anna echoed, a tad numb with surprise. Her eyebrows lifted and her mouth opened wordlessly, shock registering on the rest of her features. A power she had not indulged time to think about, yet perhaps one of the most dangerous influences a human could hold over others. Anna tried to focus her attention on nothing, not quite believing the girl’s reassurance of not peeking, and only grew more paranoid of her mind.

“It’s an annual occurrence, birthdays.” she mumbled, in a strained tone of voice, eyes flitting around the perimeter of the girl, but not the girl herself.

The cupcakes had been forgotten, and replaced by a more intriguing aura. With possibilities so extensive, the girl standing before Anna seemed just that - a girl, a normal girl. There was no grandeur in the Great Reveal, no manipulation of something so easily manipulative. Both a great respect and a great horror resonated with Anna’s breath, for someone so normal also had the damned unpredictability human beings prided themselves upon. What was the girl doing, here?

     she watched the other’s expression fall like she had found out she had been defeated, that she was no longer ruling rome. frances could feel the devastation of losing a whole city; had the brunette seen her world crumble around her, her soldiers die ? frances remembered, now, that she couldn’t do that. these people had an idea in their head about reality and shattering it meant inciting something dangerous, especially, frances assumed, in people like anna. so, her birthday it was.

     she stepped closer to the birthday decorations and eyed them. she liked the green numbers, lined with blue candy. “ here, “ she said as she flicked the design, the number zero. “ you seem green and blue. teal and blue, actually. “ she was a professional psychic, after all. she had to know these things, even if she just sometimes saw people in colors.

[frvnces]

auroradelacroix:

.”Yours or mine?”

Her immediate instinct was to latch onto the guy with all of her might; protective and overbearing in regards to her sibling. But being an adult meant recognizing that Frances was one too. And though Aurora’s vices had always drawn her more to alcohol than drugs, neither could be considered safe when they were involved.

Frances simply less so.

There were days where it felt like, for Frances, Aurora could handle anything. Years of scars, bones, and vomit could attest to the falsity of that. Then there were days where she was sure it didn’t matter whether or not she could take it. Just simply that she would; coming out the other side in whatever state she managed. Not needing to be healthy. Not needing to be whole, or mend-able.

“I bet he could use a good night’s sleep.”

Her words were hummed; gentle and persuasive. But at the end of the day, they were only a suggestion. An open-ended invitation to lay the burden on her, placed blatantly on the table.  She’d never try to trick Frances with anything else. Probably couldn’t – wonderful, fearsome being that the other had the potential to be, and often was, to someone.

And still, Aurora knew the words might burn. The implication that her twin, in every aspect but the physical, needed protecting would surely taste just as acidic to them as it did to her.

She knew no words to explain that it was not about who needed the break, but rather, who was worth it.

     it wasn’t frances’s fault that she took pity on the boy. a budding drug habit ran all too familiar. it was just something to get through the day, most times. people coped with drugs, just some chose other ones. didn’t they all produce the same desired affect ? the boy, when high, was not inside of his body. his skin was not constricting him. she wished she could even feel hers. when he drank coffee, his heart would beat too fast, but it was the only place with free wifi that his fast paced movements weren’t considered more than just being wired and caffeinated. she shook her head, as if to tell ari that she didn’t really think he would be a good target --- he had loans, a habit he needed fueled for reasons she wouldn’t be able to understand without knowing casper.

     and then frances wasn’t sure that ari was talking about him anymore. had she been in her dreams? did she know what she was seeing ? the last three nights ari had died and she could have stopped it. did she see the guilt, the lack of control ? she brushed a piece of hair from her face and leaned in, eyes as wide as a girl who began her morning with something more than coffee. “ what do you know about my sleep ? have you been looking ? “

[frvnces]

auroradelacroix:

Ari watched her sibling move, always somewhat put off by seeing her own actions mirrored in another. They’d always been a team. And Frances had always offered a glimpse into the movements she herself was so disconnected from. Smoother, granted, and a little less jolted by impulse or mania. But routine, for the likes of them both.

And Aurora wished she could swallow the scene whole – hold it on her tongue and taste into extinction that removed familiarity.

Frances moved, and spoke, and Ari’s mind simply tumbled along. The same, slow sludge it always was – spared only by her sharp tongue.

Who did she want to know? Again and again, her eyes circled the room. 

The college student sat practically on top of their laptop and half-written paper? The ageing man in the corner, glaring down at his telephone screen? The child loudly ordering hot chocolate without the chocolate, and its sibling ordering cold chocolate in turn?

No. No one caught her interest, and in a bid to look uninterested as a whole, Ari forced the cup back to her lips. Peppermint, chocolate, milk, and guilt. Another sip, another afternoon of avoiding reflective surfaces.

“That one.” She said, tilting her head towards a rather cluttered individual nearly hidden by the counter. Books, files, and bags piled around them; bold fonts and large headings visible even from Ari’s distance. It didn’t look important, or much like a grand steal. But that didn’t mean there was nothing to gain.

“They seem distracted.”

A sentiment which too tasted of peppermint.

     over the years, this talent had gotten easier for frances. with it, came easy manipulation. it was no extra superpower, but instead a byproduct of one. this manipulation was the only thing that kept her in her skin most days. there was a warped rationale behind it, but it worked. her skin was but four walls she could see through. but thoughts were messy and contagious and frances could empathize better than anyone she knew. every reason floated around her in block letters like a movie.

     they weren’t distracted, but they couldn’t focus. it was finals week and the holidays and the whole world felt either dramatically faster or painfully slower than him. it depended on the day -- no, the time of day. she sat down immediately, the stress weighing heavy on her body. but before it could keep her down, she shot back up, grinning. “ oh. this one’s good. okay, so... it’s your typical stressed college kid, but he’s got a coke habit. he’s really, really worried it’s gonna make him drop out. “

[frvnces]

casper-halim:

she wavered, like a single pebble thrown into a body of water- rippling from the inside out. She was unable to settle and Cas could see it in the way she stood there, attempting to stand still. The words came out hoarse and broken, barely audible above the loud hum of the florescent lights above. Cas watched as another customer passed them, they were blocking part of the produce section- this wasn’t the place to have a conversation like this. But the witch had never been good at timing anyway. 

“I don’t know Franny.” He shrugged, letting the basket hit against his upper thigh. “I think, you’re the one that gets to decide that” It wasn’t an answer, it was a sidestep, a way to move away. He liked Fran, she was nice enough, but complicated, and difficult to understand at times. Frances was the kind of friend, Cas imagined staying up late with only to find her gone the next morning. 

     she didn’t understand: why was it her choice ? but it was, so she nodded and one foot took a step back as if it were out the door, ready to run if something bad happened. she could go faster than her feet could take her. frances didn’t have friends or crushes or lovers. she had her sister and that was all she’d ever really have. she looked down to pick at the skin around her fingernails, tearing up her cuticles because of how dry they were. it was cold these days and cold cracked her skin. it stung when she put lotion on. ari always had to remind her. “ if it’s up to me, then i guess we’re friends, “ frances stated, then shrugged. but it wasn’t really up to just her because here she stood, waiting for approval.

[frvnces]

     the store opened fifteen minutes ago, despite every light but the “ open “ sign being off. they knew it wasn’t inviting, but they didn’t feel like being inviting today. they were mentally hungover, exhausted from reading again and again. it had been a busy day in terms of people: they met four customers that they connected with, made a new friend, and ari had been withholding over dinner. they decided, after all of that, they deserved a break --- to pop two of the eight adderall they bought from casper. she liked how much realer the world felt, but it was hard to come off of that the next day. when they heard the chimes of the door alert them of someone new, they sat up on the waiting area couch, pretending they cared what they thought of her. “ hi, “ frances said, not indicating that she owned the place.

[frvnces]

safiya-reeves:

The newness of her surroundings was apparent, even in the early hours of the morning. Even in its familiarity Pennyroyal exuded uncertainty- like her eyes could never adjust to the colours, like everything was washed in a faintest of hues that she couldn’t quite place. Still Safiya persisted each morning like clockwork, rising from her slumber alone, eating breakfast holed up in her small boarding lodge alone, and making her way down to the local cafe- alone. There was a safety in loneliness, it was a radical act of self preservation. One that Saf had never participated in before now. It was her own quiet rebellion that took place with each minute she stood in silence. Grabbing her coffee, Saf manoeuvred her way to the nearest table. Settling herself down, it took her a moment to register the other already sitting across from her.  

“Sorry. I didn’t see you. Er, do you mind if I sit here?”

     why hadn’t she noticed her ? everyone noticed frances except for ari. her eyes narrowed and she considered telling her no, and to move, but felt a tingle of a reminder: a smack in the back of the head for being rude. what would her mother say ? company seemed like the biggest annoyance that one could possibly impose on frances, but she was constant in her want to watch and read people. “ no, that’s fine. are you a big talker ? “ either way, the answer was okay.

[frvnces]

auroradelacroix:

‘Lofelde’ glanced down at her cup, trying to pick through the abbreviations scribbled on the side. Her choice had been somewhat impulsive, and she remembered that when she’d heard the order it had sounded nice. But the details… Those has slid in one ear and directly out the other.

Would have been complicated had she gotten caught. Now it simply was.

“Soy peppermint mocha, I think.” Then she raised it to her lips to confirm. “Yup.”

Briefly, she wondered if her taste buds had betrayed her. If by giving her the real answer, they’d screwed her over. Now she had to be conscious of the chocolate taste on her tongue the whole time she drank it.

She had wanted that momentarily, but suddenly the thought was making her gut turn and her eyes well. Ari shoved it down. Trampled the nagging guilt until it must’ve looked as black and blue as she felt.

“Get something seasonal. We can compare what’s better.” Maybe, by some chance, Frances would have missed the brief crisis.

     frances’s eyes turned before the other. guilt ? oh, if ari could read their mind. guilt had nothing on ari. what a perfect specimen, a definition of someone’s something and then what an independent mind to ruin it. she forbade love’s lax attitude, drank the boiling in water, held onto coffee cups like they were land. almost out of spite, frances smiled. she wanted to scoff: ha, guilt. and peppermint mocha would have been seasonal, had ari known frances already knew of its chocolately flavor.

     a “ chloe ! ” is called and frances knows it’s her cue, due to people-watching. chloe had a phone call outside. she took it and it tasted nothing like peppermint. ari couldn’t read her mind, but frances forced the switch anyway. it was bitter and less, and the more bitter and taller of the two would appreciate it.

     she leaned against the counter. “ what do you want to know about who ? “ they, a dream team, used their powers for coffee houses. if aurora asked the stranger, it would percolate their mind and frances could tell ari anything.